Shizuru's Last
by Seeky L. H. Wolf
Summary: Whilst searching thru Shizuru's records, Koenma finds something that causes at least three people to cry, and one to die. Sry about the short AN's.


Hi, new fic—can't talk now!  
  
Seeky  
  
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When Koenma told Botan what he had discovered from the files, Botan was first a bit dumbfounded, but when she realized what it meant, her poor heart filled with briny tears; and she flung herself against his teenage form, and she wept. Koenma knew how she felt. When he had first found that file, and its contents, he had felt rather betrayed and lost. He had called Botan there immediately, hoping that she could make it seem any better. Obviously, she could do nothing better than hold him and cry with him, though that in itself was as great a kindness as anything else she could do for him at that moment.  
  
Botan looked up at the great ruler after they had both wept until their faces were as red as Kurama's hair. He stared back, feeling like a much hollow vessel, and visibly refused to speak yet, simply holding her close. She wasn't any readier to break the forgiving silence, nor was she ready to accept her duty in these circumstances. Surely, he wouldn't expect her to—no, he would expect her to complete her responsibility, since it was her job. She hated having such obligations, and did not want to deal with it.  
  
Finally, when they both looked somewhat less upset, but both feeling it within, Koenma spoke. His voice was rasping, from the raw tears that had trickled down his throat.  
  
"Botan, I know how you feel, but there's no choice. We can't sacrifice the entire world for one person—even if that one person is someone who we know. As you see, time is running low in the hourglass. You need to find some of the boys and do this before next month." He shrugged half-heartedly, not knowing how to say this nicely—it was a vile thing happening, or rather, that had happened, and neither of them wanted to have to deal with it in the only way possible  
  
"The boys—they won't like it any more than we do. I'm not sure any of them would do it, even to save the entire world. I know Kuwabara and Yusuke couldn't, but Hiei or Kurama—I hate this situation!" Botan's voice cracked on the word "hate," and she looked for all the world like an avenging Valkyrie or some such Angel of Death, but not the peppy Pilot of Styx that was her wont. She was supremely livid at not having any control in this grim situation.  
  
Koenma nodded at her, sharing in the rage, though he himself felt more sad and depressed and simply glum at having to lose someone so close. His mind reeled with how unfair this was, until Botan asked a question that made him feel just a bit better.  
  
"Koenma, sir—what would you do if it was me? Would you tell me, or would you simply do it, and how would you do it? I mean, it's just awful."  
  
"Botan, if it were you, I'd tell you in an instant, and make it painless. We all have duties, and bad news is one of mine. Right now, yours is to find Kurama—I think he's our best bet at this moment. Tell him what's going on, and see what he thinks." Koenma tossed off a weak smile. "Botan, you don't know how glad I am that it isn't you. You—it would be so hard for me to let you go."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Botan said, her tear-rimmed eyes glowing at the unstated enormity of that remark. She dabbed at her face with the long sleeve of her orchid-colored kimono, trying to make herself presentable to go down to the Human World and repeat this scene with Kurama. However, Kurama would try not to cry, and if he did, he would not hold her near or otherwise try to help her, the way Koenma had. She walked soberly out of the great hall, tossing one last forlorn look over her shoulder at the pitiful figure of the young demi-god. He was watching her as she left, and tried to show signs of a feeble, trembling smile to send her off. While he failed, his attempt was duly noted by the dour Pilot of the River Styx.  
  
(ToT) Sniff so sad, even though I don't know why I'm crying. Well, yes, I do, but sniff I'm not telling yet! I'll continue on, now. Sniff, snort, blow nose into pink, fluffy Kleenex.   
  
Botan knocked on the tall door of Kurama's home, hoping he was there. She was definitely not in a mood to exchange pleasant niceties with Shiori, even though she much admired the human woman for putting up with Kurama for as long as she had. Botan had no such luck, as Shiori opened the door, looking rather chipper and perky. Botan quickly put a happy face on, though it felt like a mask, and addressed Shiori with respect and cheer.  
  
"Hello, ma'am! Is Suuichi home, by any chance?"  
  
"Yes, he's in his room. If you give me a name, I'll tell him you're here to see him, miss."  
  
"Oh, I'm Botan. You're Suuichi's mother? It's a pleasure to meet you!"  
  
She shook the tall woman's hand genially, and waited for Kurama to appear at the door. When he did, he was wearing his standard fuchsia school uniform, and looking rather relaxed—maybe even marginally bored.  
  
"Mother, Botan and I need to go to the library to work on a project. I'll be home before dinner. Is that all right?" He asked in his cool, calm tones. Shiori mumbled her consent, and gave her son a quick kiss on the cheek. Botan and Kurama left the house in the direction of the library, but as soon as they were out of view from the house, they headed off course, and ended up in the forest preserve, underneath a shady willow.  
  
"So, Botan—what's up? You seem oddly disturbed, like someone spit on your oar or thereabout. What is the matter?"  
  
Botan was unsure of how to phrase her dilemma, and how he was to help, so she started with Koenma's file. "About five hundred or-so years ago, an evil demi-goddess, Circe, tried to destroy the entire planet. A few seconds before we destroyed her, she cast a powerful spell that set the stage for her return. Basically, she'd be reborn as a normal human, who'd be perfectly innocent and unaware, until her eighteenth birthday—then, she'd get all her powers and memories, and all the like, back."  
  
"That sounds interesting. I've heard of Circe—wasn't she the one who stopped Odysseus, or something of the sort?"  
  
"Well, he was the Spirit Detective back in those days. Handsome little bugger he was, too. Anyway, the reincarnation of Circe has her eighteenth birthday next month. The only way to stop her is, sadly, to kill her. The big 'but' is that she's still innocent, as a human, so Yusuke wouldn't do it."  
  
"Kuwabara, with his thing about honor might be willing—it's the world we're talking about, right?"  
  
Botan fidgeted a bit, not knowing how to put it. "No, he wouldn't do it at all. You see, the reincarnation of Circe is—Shizuru. That's what has me all flustered. I—I can't watch her die, any more than I could kill her myself! Oh, Kurama— you know, it's hard."  
  
Kurama, who had been contemplating an ant on the forest floor prior to her revelation, snapped his head up at the mention of Shizuru, and turned a pasty pale shade that put Elder Toguru to shame. His wide, green eyes began to water, and he blinked to impending tears away. Botan placed a hand on his shoulder, in a silent signal that it was perfectly fine to cry. Kurama had always admired and, to some extent, loved Shizuru, ever since he had first met her, at the Dark Tournament. She had always kept her head, calm and cool, maybe just a bit reserved. He had felt that she understood him, and had wanted a chance to talk with her, for she was such a nonjudgmental person to talk to, as well as being so close in awareness.  
  
Kurama's tears had neither the value of Hiei's and Yukina's, nor the pure agony of Botan's and Koenma's, but they held something precious within their transparent droplets—maybe it could be related to a self-pity and loneliness, or a base desire to be understood, or some other aching emotion; Botan was unsure about its exact origin, but the true meaning behind each tear Kurama cried was inexplicable, deeper than words had the power to describe. Kurama knew what Botan needed him to do, and he knew he would enact it with such ceremony as necessary and as little pleasure as possible—he had lost the taste for blood, and acquired a craving for something that seemed easier to obtain. Now, he would lose that solemn chance for love, and would be forced to sacrifice her very existence, her reassuring presence, for the safety of the world.  
  
He had tried to sacrifice his own life for the safety of this poor planet on more than one occasion—most of those being during the Dark Tournament, including the instance with his fight versus Karasu. Now, he would have to sacrifice the life of someone who was more himself than he ever were, to make sure that the world did not evaporate in a plume of anger. He felt more lost than when he had been reborn as a human, and wailed now like the infant he had then been.  
  
By the time that his face had turned flush and he felt as though he could not cry anymore, he was so exhausted by the sheer energy and emotion he had invested into the tantrum that he slumped against the tree, and listened to the sound of his own ragged breath. It felt as if a sacred eternity passed, before he raised his head and looked Botan right in her peony-colored eyes.  
  
"So, Botan, how are we doing this? I understand completely why you need me to—do it." He was unable to simply use the word "kill" at that moment, as he was the one who would be required to murder her, himself. "We need a plan here. I don't know if it's prudent to inform her of the exact situation—Circe must be stirring, and to shock her, or to use the name might fully rouse her." Botan looked aghast, as if that distinct facet of the already harsh circumstances had not occurred to her, though it was like to be true.  
  
"Oh, dear, I had not realized that might—we'll be practically gagged, out there!" Botan's look of horror as she realized that Shizuru would have no idea of what was going on was almost as large as a comedic gasp, though it bore no lightness, only heavy portent. Kurama's glum nod was the opposite superlative—so slight that Botan would not have seen it if she were not expecting and awaiting it.  
  
"So, how are we going to make it as easy as possible? Poisons are simply too risky, it'd have to be one of my little pets—" He trailed off, not wanting to think yet of which of his plants would be the one to kill her. Neither of them wanted to think, yet.  
  
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That's the first chappy—gtg, more later! 


End file.
